Time Does Not Stop

As the ground shakes ferociously,

The beautiful sights of Kathmandu crumble resonantly.

Destroying peace and calm along the quake,

Yet time does not stop to witness it.

 

The very temples that formed the foundation of the city,

Have now formed a colossal crater in the ground.

Years of prestigious memories lost,

Yet time does not stop to recover it.

 

The cries of many orphaned children,

More terrible than the sound of the ground splitting apart.

Innocent lives, gone in a second,

Yet time does not stop to honor them.

 

Rubble, piled into mountains, with people still trapped inside,

The devastation over, but not quite.

The death toll, increasing by the minute,

Yet time does not stop to save them.

 

Citizens and tourists alike, starving critically,

A mother asking for food to feed her baby,

Getting refused though not losing hope,

Yet time does not stop to provide her.

 

As the choppers come and help the victims,

The wounded carried to the hospitals,

And the dead to the crematorium,

The moment whizzes to a slow motion

And time does slow down

-Tarini

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The Golden Bird

Temples, idols, flowers, and Sun

There was a time when India was the golden one

Long ago, but not in a distant land

This tale is of the country which was once called the Golden Bird.

 

Centuries past, when forts spread vast

Merchants galore, with bangles and earrings hanging from a cart

Civilizations grew, but not too far

Rich capitals and even richer kings, about whom were created lores

But all that came to a pause when the Whites docked their ships upon the shores

 

Torment and torture and tyranny spread wide

Houses were burnt and children cried

The Battle of Buxar, the Battle of Plassey

No one knew for sure now, as blurred were the lines

 

Torment of the East spread to the West, and then everywhere

The East India Company had started the British phase

Rulers forfeited, heroes disappeared

Will there be anyone who would save them from this craze?

 

They fought, they rebelled, but the radicals were held

They struck, they tried, anyone who opposed died

Udham Singh served revenge on a cold platter

Bose versus the British, so went the matter

 

Gandhi took the path to peace

Naoroji served the sermons

Awaiting the time to make their move,

The citizens slowly sparked the fire.

 

Riots happened, protests were held

And into the freedom movement, the citizens delved.

Modern buildings and Indigo farms

Were destroyed by ammunition and arms

 

The Revolt of 1857, brought upon a new age

No longer did anyone tolerate the rage

The British crowd control failed, but Indians did not

Onwards, they marched, towards a new dawn

 

Gone was the darkness which came with the East India Company’s tyranny

A new hope emerged in the light of a new day

The Whites were weakened in the World War Two

The path to freedom opened anew

 

Meetings were held, parties were formed

A brand new era was about to begin

Negotiations happened and peace was restored

This was the tale of the country which was once called the Golden Bird

-Tarini

BONJOUR RESIDENTS OF THE INTERNET!

So introductions are not something I particularly excel at, but what I am good at is reading books and capturing moments (ultra-generic, I know).
I try to write relatable stuff most of the time and end up going completely off track, but I’ve been told that my opinions are pretty on point.
I’m an Indian teenager who loves to read, write, dance and watch sci-fi TV shows all the time. I’d love to say that I find goodness all around me, alas I’m the most sarcastic and pessimistic person in the history of ever. My dream job is to bake pies and wake the dead (kudos to everyone who got that reference).
My posts are generally going to focus on non-sugarcoated reviews, shoving my opinions down other people’s throats (though that may only happen once in a blue moon) and over-exaggerating life threatening circumstances that seem to happen way too often to me.
Wait up for the next post,
Tarini